The Burning Bush
thoughts from a cunning linguist

September 29, 2003

The A-Juan Clock, or Anti-isolationism

Those of you who are regular readers of aMMusing know by now that Halifax got hit last night by Hurricane Juan. Being the internet junkie that I am, I was well-prepared for the event and sending lots of sympathy to my friends in the city that feels most like home to me (my having lived in Halifax for 10 of the last 12 years). I went to bed last night expecting to hear about the sound and the fury of Juan (or, I thought, maybe that the storm was not so bad after all) over e-mail or via Canadian websites.

My mother had different ideas. Not having ever used a computer in her life, she was convinced that I would not get any news about Juan now that I'm living in that hinterland called New Jersey. So before 6:30 this morning, my phone rang. Between the time of the first ring and the time I said hello (maybe 5 seconds), I was already convinced that someone (hell, maybe more than one person) was sick or dead. This is what Newfoundlanders do in crisis: they call you at whatever hour of day or night the crisis strikes.

The "crisis" in this case was not really Hurricane Juan itself, I don't think. If so, she would have called last night to tell me about this. No, the crisis really was more of national proportions: my mother worried that American news channels would not give me news she thought essential to me.

I have a theory that Newfoundlanders, being islanders, constantly fear isolation. And the best evidence against isolation is connection, in one form or another, to the events happening in the world. So we (at least in my family, but I think in others as well) are big telephone people. Most Newfoundlanders in small communities have cable television, where it's available. And I don't know anyone who doesn't have "the plan" (some version of an unlimited long distance calling package). So my mother, in spite of her knowledge that I am an internet junkie, assumed that I "wouldn't hear much about the Hurricane down [here]." This is more because she could not imagine that I would have any means to hear about it except American television and newspapers. In short, it didn't occur to her in "the crisis" to think of something as far outside her own experience as the internet as a possible source of information for me.

Aside from there being an obvious and "virtual" generation gap here between my mother and me, there's also an equally obvious effort to close any gaps in distance between us that might, in turn, create gaps in knowledge. As long as Newfoundlanders are part of Canada, telecommunications will thrive, at least in Newfoundland. And as long as my mother has a phone, I guess I should just get used to her being my occasion a-Juan clock.

Posted by Bush Whacker at 11:17 AM | Comments (2)

September 25, 2003

What would people do without e-mail?

E-mail's a funny thing. People write things in e-mail that they would never say to a person's face. I notice this especially in my e-mails from students. Right now I'm a teaching assistant in the Writing Program here at my school. This means that I teach two sections of expository writing--22 students in each class. I graded and returned the first set of essays last week. The next essay is due next week. In the last two days, I've received a number of desperate e-mails from students who want help with the next essay.

Nevermind that they did not show up for my office hours or ask any questions about the upcoming essay in class. Nevermind that I make it very clear on the outline that I respond to student e-mails only on class days. Nevermind that there is a Writing Centre on campus whose services are free and for which I've encouraged these same students to enroll for extra help with their writing.

Now, to be clear: it's not that I mind helping students. Not in the least. However, I do mind, when I'm expected to clear my schedule and drop everything (a) to respond to an e-mail sent in the middle of the night and (b) to meet with them only when it's convenient for them and (c) when they take no responsibility for their own work. Granted, they are freshmen. They are still getting the hang of being in university. And of course, I'll provide what help I can.

But, why is it that these requests come in the form of e-mail?

I think the way freshmen use e-mail to talk to their profs says as much about e-mail as it does about freshmen. It's not just freshmen who use e-mail to communicate things from behind a screen. E-mail has the added feature of creating a time gap between the request/initial message and the reply to that request/message. It also allows people to be bolder than they might otherwise have been. I just can't figure out why, given the distancing effect of e-mail that people expect such immediate responses!

Argh.

Posted by Bush Whacker at 11:20 AM | Comments (2)

September 24, 2003

The Bush Whacker's Book Club

Okay, let's face it: I'n no Oprah Winfrey. But I read a lot of books, even if I don't have a corporate machine behind me. And, in the interests of blogging more, I'm inaugurating a new category of blog entries. Here goes with the first of the lot, certainly appropriate for a Bush Whacker who's studying sexuality.

Solitary Sex by Thomas Laqueur

The subtitle of this book says it all: "A Cultural History of Masturbation." Thomas Laqueur is coming to speak to the Sexuality Studies Working Group (of which I'm a member) this coming Friday. So my day today will be largely spent trying to finish reading this tome of a book (almost 500 pages) before he gets here. Laqueur's a Berkeley prof, whose reputation was built largely on his previously published book, Making Sex. It's a medical/social/cultural history of the very idea of sexual difference. (Rumour has it that Laqueur took himself off to medical school to really study medicine in order to be a more legitimate commentator on its history. I was told this once, though who knows: could be an academic urban myth)...

In Solitary Sex Laqueur argues that masurbation is THE modern form of sexuality, rooted, as it is, in ideas about and anxieties attached to individualism. There's a good deal of literary discussion here too about books that Samuel Pepys, in his diary, called "books you read with one hand." But Laqueur really takes a serious look at the historical evolution of masturbation, tracing its modern-day configuration back to a particular tract called "Onania," published in 1712. (Rare precision for a history of ideas and practices). One of the more surprising observations he makes is that masturbation was a form of "self-pollution" (both morally and medically) not only for conservatives, but also for progressives. This is not to say that mastubation was only invented in 1712, but only that masturbation in its current form can be traced back to this time. It's quite fascinating how masturbation (and prohibitions against it) so define the ways we think about sexuality even in the current form.

That's one story about the role of masturbation in my life these days. I could tell you others. But doesn't the fact that I'm not say as much about the unspoken rules of decorum, about conventions of privacy and publicity, and about what contexts make sexually explicit content more acceptable than others? Isn't Laqueur therefore right that masturbation tells us quite an interesting story about the individual's relationship to sexual practices and ideas AND about the role of sexuality in civil society?

Posted by Bush Whacker at 10:16 AM | Comments (2)

September 23, 2003

Blogging for Chrissake

I know: it's been an unforgivably long time since I blogged. But it's not because I haven't thought about blogging or because I have nothing to blog about. In fact, I've sat down to my Movable Type page many times since I've been "Stateside." Sometimes I just don't know where to start. So here are some highlights, any one of which could easily have been developed into a full-fledged blog entry:

* In the last three weeks, I've managed to hit three major cities on the east coast. Weekend one, I went to Philadelphia, which I did not know is the 5th largest city in the U.S. Amazing architecture; humid weather: loved the buildings; hated the heat. Lucky for me, the friends I stayed with had both air conditioning and an intricate knowledge of all the nooks and crannies to see in Philly. I had a lovely time and want to go back soon.
     Weekend two, I headed into NYC, where I had not been since before 9/11. The city is now quite different, not least because of the pronounced police presence (in the form of a huge banner reading "POLICE" at a central kiosk greeting one at Penn Station). I'm not the first to observe that the city "feels" different, now too. What some people have described as a "nicer" NYC, though, felt a little to me like a muted NYC: I'm not sure people are nicer, but the city has lost some of its edge and energy. This, of course, is to be expected--it's still very much a city in mourning and a city not yet comfortable enough to be flamboyant again. Nonetheless, the place is dear to me. I spent my Saturday walking down Broadway among the illicit marketers, selling knock-offs; perusing the market at Union Square; sitting in Washington Square Park, reading the Village Voice; having a drink with my ex-from the crazy Calgary wedding at a bona fide lesbian bar; and finally eating dinner at a wonderful little Italian restaurant up near Columbia with two old friends. As I describe the day, it's funny, because I don't remember it being that busy...
     Finally, for weekend three (the weekend before last), I travelled to Boston. Several NYC bus companies offer this fabulous deal where you go from Chinatown in NYC to Chinatwon in Boston for $10 each way! And they have buses leaving every hour. So I took advantage of the opportunity to go see my sister in Boston (and my mother who was down visiting her). My sister has two babies (one is 2 1/2 and the other just turned 1 year old). Surprisingly, I was not driven crazy and seemed really to hit it off with the one-year-old. Who knew.

* Now I'm staying home for a little while until Oct. 2, when I travel to Toronto for the 40th birthday of the sexiest woman I know. Yes, Dr. Fem turns 40. And there will be a queer Toronto party to prove it. You can bet I'm counting sleeps until I see her again...

* In other news, my work here proceedes apace. There have been few slow moments. My two classes are keeping me quite busy and when I'm not teaching, I'm working on my own research (what a concept!). Meetings with faculty advisors have gone well so far. And my dissertation supervisor is spearheading a Sexuality Studies Working Group that is bringing in some big-name scholars from all over the U.S. This week, Thomas Laqueur hits town and I'm now in the middle of reading his cultural history of masturbation. Interesting stuff.

* In spite of all the above, though, I do long for Halifax--its greenery, its Film Festival, its smoked salmon, its well-stocked grocery stores. New Brunswick, NJ is the strangest college town one can imagine. I have to walk a solid half hour to get to a grocery store, which is not even in New Brunswick. Otherwise, I need a car to get there. (To be fair, there is a little market for produce and Mexican and Asian food, but one cannot get a complete supply of food there.) All of this, however, I treat as motivation to get work done and live elsewhere. I'm not sure how long one can go on the hope of "living life elsewhere," but for now, that is just fine. And besides, if I feel stir-crazy, there is always Philly, or NYC, or Boston to give me a temporary respite.

Posted by Bush Whacker at 11:27 AM | Comments (2)